"Die, you piece of shit!"

Marcus threw his gun into the rack and groaned as the screen flashed red. "Damn. I almost had you that time." They hadn't even gotten their pizza yet, and he was sweating.

Gio flipped him off as he racked his plastic rifle. "You weren't even close." His smile glowed in the multicolored lights, the gap in his teeth drawing Marcus's eye. "Wanna go again?"

Tearing his eyes away from that tempting mouth, he glanced at his watch. "Our pizzas should be ready," he said regretfully. He'd been worried that Gio would think even a fake date at the arcade was too corny, but the omega had already dragged him around to six of the shooter games. "Once I fuel up, I'll show you how it's done."

"Sure you will," Gio said, rolling his eyes.

Marcus grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together as he headed for the counter. It had been a long time since he'd been able to hang out with a date, and he liked the feel of that firm pressure as their palms pressed. The fact that it wasn't a real date took all the pressure off and made it easy to just have fun.

Their pizzas were still in the oven, so Marcus propped his shoulder against the wall. It was getting more crowded, people thronging the pizza stand as dinnertime rolled closer. He had to pull Gio close to keep them from being separated, their faces almost touching so that they could hear each other over the dozens of games.

"This place is pretty great," Gio said, standing on his toes to survey the games. "What do you want to play next?"

Dark hair brushed against Marcus's cheek, and he could smell just a hint of warm skin over the tomato sauce. "Skee-ball," he said, his lips brushing against Gio's ear as he turned to look the other way.

Gio stared at him, one eye raised, his breath warming the air between them until it burned. "Are you secretly eighty, old man?"

Someone bumped into them, pressing their bodies together for a fraction of a second. It was too long, and not long enough, and Marcus swallowed hard. "I'll show you old," he said, his fingers tightening on Gio's waist. "I'll have you know that I am a god at Skee-ball."

"Right. I believe you," Gio said, nodding slowly. "Whatever you say, grandpa."

"You little brat," Marcus growled. "Just you wait. I'll get you with my crazy thousand-point toss."

"Is that normal for you? Seducing people with your Boca Raton, retiree, shuffleboard skills?" Gio asked, grinning up at him.

It was entirely too tempting, and Marcus was tired of resisting. He wasn't sure what was going on with his job, but he was increasingly convinced that it wasn't good. Why should he care about fraternization policies?

The first touch of their lips was electric, and he groaned. In his memory, Gio tasted like strawberries, sweet and delicate and just a tiny bit tart. How could he have forgotten the dark, tangy zing that brought his whole mouth to life? His stroked his tongue across one plump lip, chasing the flavor.

Sharp teeth scraping across his tongue would have been a warning from anyone else, but Gio pressed closer, his body melting against Marcus until a sheet of paper wouldn't have fit between them. When he jerked back suddenly, Marcus let him go, his hands sliding back up from the delicious globes of his ass. He wasn't even sure when they'd gotten there, but he already missed the firm curve of muscle against his palms.

Leaning as far as he could, Gio's face twisted, and then he sneezed. Twice, three times, it shook his smaller body until Marcus had to steady him to keep him from ending up sprawled on the pavement. "Sorry, sorry," Gio muttered, rubbing at his nose. "That fucking mustache tickles."

Relief slid down his spine like warm honey, and he laughed. "I'll shave it off when I get home, I promise."

Gio snorted. "If I'd know that was all it would take, I'd have made you do it last time." He looked like a puppy who had just been told they were actually going to the vet, not the park.

Marcus leaned down to kiss his pouty lips, but veered aside at the last second and pressed a kiss to his temple, breathing in the fruit and musk smell of cheap shampoo and clean man. "I think our pizza is ready," he said.

Hesitating, Gio glanced at him through his lashes, a flash of hazel. "Do you want to eat outside?" he asked, gesturing to the crowd. He had his lower lip caught in those adorable teeth, and it was too much temptation.

"Sure," Marcus said, stepping back and thanking his tailor for expertly fitted slacks that helped hide how hard he was. "If you want to go find somewhere to sit, I'll grab the pizzas."

Gio nodded, disappearing into the crowd with one last backward glance.

The pizzas were just being boxed when he stepped up to give them his ticket, and he dropped another hefty tip into the tip jar. The arcade was run by the local school district, and all proceeds went toward after school and child care programs for the kids. It had been one of the reasons he'd wanted to check it out.

It helped that the food looked phenomenal, but he didn't think he'd taste a bite of it, his mouth still tingling from that brief touch of lips.

It was all he could concentrate on, even as he landed the perfect thousand-point shot at Skee-ball, more than doubling Gio's high score. The kiss that he got for that lingered on his tongue long after he reluctantly dropped the omega off at his apartment, their date cut short when the pizza didn't sit well with him.

* * *

"Are they seriously paying you to play solitaire right now? Where do I sign up for this job?"

Marcus shot upright, almost knocking over his coffee cup in his rush to flip his phone over. "How long have you been there?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Bent over the desk, Gio smirked at him. "Long enough to know that you were losing. Don't worry," he added as Marcus got up to check that no one had overheard. "Your reputation is safe. The whole floor is at lunch."

"My reputation," Marcus said, bitterness creeping into his tone, "is none of their business."

Gio raised an eyebrow, still leaning on the desk. "Is that so?" he asked, sauntering over slowly. He was wearing a skin tight polo shirt that bulged over his biceps in the best way, and he obviously knew it, crossing his arms and flexing when he caught Marcus looking.

Marcus enjoyed the show for as long as it took for him to get within arm's reach, pulling him close. "Yes," he said. "Whatever you're thinking, I wholeheartedly agree."

Had it only been a week since the arcade? He hadn't been able to see Gio except in passing, and he felt starved for the feel of the other man in his arms.

His grueling schedule of solitaire and other games had been disrupted briefly as he'd done some inconspicuous digging into the company archives. The only thing he'd found was a lot of happy customers and one bored security guard up in the Vault. Maybe he was paranoid.

"I'm glad you're such a team player," Gio said, his lips tracing along Marcus's jaw. "Have I mentioned that I like you better without the mustache?"

He could only groan in response as the omega rose up on his toes, their bodies rubbing together. The kiss was slick and dirty, and Marcus let Gio have his fun for a moment before he took control, holding him in place with a hand cupping the delicate bones of his jaw. Their tongues slid together, and he let his hands drag down to cup the luscious curves of Gio's ass.

The elevator dinged, barely penetrating the fog of lust. He did, however, need to breathe, so he broke the kiss just enough to check if anyone was headed their way. The hallway was empty, and he pressed their foreheads together, panting against Gio's lips.

"As much as I'm starting to hate this job," he said, digging his fingers into the thick muscle until Gio whined in his throat, "this is definitely something that would get me fired, and I wouldn't even fight it."

"Fuck," Gio said, rolling his hips until Marcus had to set him back on his feet or risk losing control entirely.

Even with a few feet between them, it wasn't much better. Gio looked like sex incarnate. His lips were swollen and shiny, and his jeans were not as expertly tailored, showing the outline of his erection through the worn fabric like a neon sign.

"Sorry," Marcus said, not-so-subtly adjusting himself.

Gio's eyes darkened, the pupils expanding until the hazel was a thin ring of color. "Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes," he growled, stalking past.

Marcus couldn't resist the urge to swat him on the ass as he went by, and if he hadn't already been hard, the look the omega gave him would have sealed the deal.

Grabbing his phone, he locked his work station and smoothed his hair. The elevator dinged again, disgorging a handful of laughing secretaries, including the one currently assigned to him. He nodded to her as he shut his door, trying to look normal as he headed for the bathroom.

"You realize," Gio said, standing at the marble counter with his hands on his hips, "that we have three bathroom stalls for all hundred people on my floor?" He frowned at Marcus in the mirror, his cheeks still flushed. "They don't even have doors."

"Then you should come up to use the bathroom from now on. I've never actually seen anyone else in here," Marcus said, catching him around the waist and flopping back onto the plush couch that sat in one corner with a grunt. The 'stalls' were a trio of separate rooms, complete with their own sinks, bidets, and a selection of financial newspapers that changed daily.

"Yeah," Gio drawled. "I'll just take the elevator twenty floors to take a piss."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have quite the mouth?" Marcus asked, stroking a finger along the generous curve.

"You weren't complaining about my mouth a few minutes ago." He sucked the digit into his mouth, his teeth scraping across the tip.

Marcus groaned, pulling his hand away and dragging Gio into a hard kiss. His hand fisted in the omega's hair as he manhandled him into the perfect position.

On top of him, Gio squirmed, fitting their hips together so that Marcus could feel the rough press of his hard cock lining up with his own. The friction was perfect, and the world faded away as they writhed together, barely separating enough to suck in a breath before diving back in.

Stroking the lean muscle of Gio's back, Marcus pulled the omega’s shirt up to trace the carved lines that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. He was gorgeous, firm and sexy, with just a hint of pudge to his tummy that Marcus found endearingly out of place.

His hands slid down to cup Gio's ass through the denim, but it wasn't close enough. He squirmed under the worn fabric, seizing the silky flesh. Gio arched into his touch, thrusting back and forth in a jagged rhythm. Soothing him, Marcus forced him to slow down, one hand going to the buttons on the front of his jeans.

"Excuse me."

Ears burning, Marcus stared in mortified horror at the security guard standing in the doorway. It was the one from upstairs, a man with about as much to do all day as Marcus himself.

"Hi, Ernest," Marcus said sheepishly as he pulled his hand out of Gio's pants. "How's it going?"

"Son of a bitch," Gio said, burying his face in Marcus's neck. Marcus could appreciate the impulse. He would have settled for a hole in the ground to swallow him up.

"Going great," he said, glancing pointedly at his watch. "Looking forward to heading home. It's getting late."

"We were just leaving." Marcus sat up, but didn't let Gio off his lap. Neither of them were in any fit state to be walking around at the moment.

"Yes, sir. I hope you have a good weekend." The guard crossed his arms, frowning like a father whose son was late getting home from prom. Marcus had been obsessively punctual just to avoid this exact situation, and he hated it just as much as he'd expected to.

"You have a good weekend, too," he said, setting Gio on his feet. The omega spun on his heel and stomped into one of the stalls, slamming the door shut. Marcus let him go.

"Yes, sir. I'll just wait outside for you to be finished."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Marcus groaned into his hand, muffling the sound so that it barely carried. Now what? Oddly enough, he was less concerned about his job than he was about Gio's. He had plenty of marketable skills, and if worse came to worst, he could go back to the family company. Gio didn't have that security.

"He's gone," he said, getting to his feet. Without the warmth of Gio's body up against him, embarrassment had killed his erection, and he was no longer in danger of making a scene.

"Good for him," Gio muttered, stomping out of the stall. He had one of the fancy disposable washcloths in his hand and was scrubbing at a stain on his pants that looked like it had been there since the dinosaurs ruled the earth. His cheeks and lips were flushed pink, and he had his tongue stuck between his gapped teeth as he concentrated.

"You're fucking adorable." The words echoed in the air for a moment before Marcus realized he had said them.

"Fuck you," Gio snapped, his ears turning red.

"I'm serious," Marcus said, pulling him up to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. "Come home with me after work. I'll order dinner, and we can watch sappy movies." Gio stared at him in shock, and he continued in a rush, "I'll make you breakfast in bed, too, if you want to stay the weekend."

"Okay." Gio jumped a little, his eyes widening in surprise. "I mean..." He frowned, gazing into space. "Nevermind," he said, leaning up on his toes to kiss Marcus back. "I have an appointment on Saturday, but it'll just be for an hour or so."

"Really?" He'd expected to have to sell Gio on the idea. "Great." Picking him up, Marcus spun the smaller man around. The laugh that tore its way out of Gio's throat was jagged and rusty. The omega looked just as surprised as Marcus was to hear it.

"Put me down, asshole. You're gonna make me puke."

He did look a little green when Marcus set him on his feet. "Sorry," he said, brushing a kiss across his hair. "I'll meet you at your car? I usually walk to work, so we don't have to worry about two cars."

"Lucky bastard," Gio muttered, eying the bathroom stalls. "I'm gonna take a piss. Might as well make use of the luxury facilities while I can."

"You can use them whenever you want. If anyone asks, tell them I said it was okay." Marcus pressed another quick kiss to his head and hurried out of the room before he could be tempted to stay.

Ernest looked up from his phone as Marcus passed, giving him a stern look and then groaning when he lost whatever level he'd been working on.

* * *

"I'm in love with your couch."

Marcus chuckled, tugging Gio's face away from one of the many patterned throw pillows that had shown up with the furniture. He'd always thought they were too rough and overstuffed to be comfortable, but Gio had been hugging that one for the last half of the movie.

"I'll give you the name of my designer," he promised, kissing the damp streaks left on Gio's cheeks by the devastatingly romantic movie they'd been watching. "I knew you'd cry at the end."

"You read Haley Peters," Gio grumbled against his lips. "Don't judge."

Scooping him up in his arms, Marcus headed for the bedroom. "Brat. Come cuddle me before I get jealous of the couch." He pressed teasing, coaxing kisses to Gio's mouth, flicking his tongue across those plump lips until the omega threaded his fingers through his hair and held him still.

"Asshole," Gio said when their lips parted with a wet noise that was loud in the silence of the apartment. "You're not as squishy as the couch is," he added, his eyes rounded innocently as he ran his hands over Marcus's chest.

He laughed. "Nice of you to notice." He was doing an excellent job resisting the voice in his head that wanted to make a terrible joke, right up until Gio opened his mouth again.

"In fact," he said, batting his lashes, "parts of you are pretty damn hard."

Groaning, Marcus shuffled the last few steps into the bedroom and tossed him onto the bed. "That was terrible."

"You were thinking it," Gio said, flopping back on the bed. "Don't deny it." He rolled over and stared at the enormous bed, his eyes gleaming. "Holy shit. Forget the couch, I'm in love with this bed. It's bigger than my entire apartment."

"You're welcome to use it whenever you want," Marcus said magnanimously, pulling off his shirt. His inner voice, the one that sounded exactly like Kurt, was cheering.

"So generous." Gio glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes raking over Marcus's chest like a physical touch. "You gonna offer to warm the sheets up for me, too?"

Marcus slid his belt out of its loops with a long hiss of sound and dropped it on the floor. "I think I could get behind that," he said. Climbing onto the bed, he pressed himself up against Gio's back, catching the omega's lips in a deep kiss.

Pressed up against him, the slight body felt so much stronger than it looked, and he wanted to savor every inch of wiry muscle. He nipped at Gio's lips until they opened, sliding his tongue along the sharp teeth as he pulled the other man's t-shirt out of the way.

"You're so gorgeous," he said when they broke the kiss to breathe.

Gio squirmed around underneath him until they were face to face and the shirt was hanging from the corner of his headboard. "You don't have to butter me up, asshole. I'm a sure thing."

"Don't brush me off," Marcus growled, burying his face into the soft spot where firm chest met tiny, adorable belly. "You're perfect. You have the perfect ass, the perfect mouth... Even this little beer belly is perfect."

Frowning, Gio followed his glance, blushing bright red as he shoved Marcus off him. "Jesus. Six months behind a computer, and I'm getting fat," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Marcus caught his hands and leaned over to press a kiss to his belly button. "It's perfect."

"Can we get the fuck on with this?"

He laughed. "You and that fucking mouth," he said, pinning the smaller man down and kissing him stupid. Happiness was bubbling in his chest, popping under his skin until felt like he would float away if he let go of Gio.

They wrestled together, hands tangling as they both tried to strip off the same piece of clothing. Gio kept laughing, that surprised, happy laugh that made Marcus have to kiss him. It was distracting, and somewhere in their writhing, all his expensive pillows and blankets ended up on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to care.

"How do you even have perfect knees?" Marcus asked, kissing the inside of one of them. "Real people don't have perfect knees. They have bony, knobbly things that belong on a newborn horse."

Gio dragged his leg out of Marcus's hand, rolling his eyes. "I'm not perfect, you sap."

"You're perfect for me."

They both froze. Marcus's heart crowded his throat, words backing up behind it as he racked his brain for a way to play the whole thing off.

"Oh, shut up," Gio said after a moment, his voice catching. "All that Haley Peters has gone straight to your brain."

"Maybe," Marcus said, a strained smile sitting unnaturally on his lips. "I promise I won't fall all over myself confessing my love for you until after our third date."

"So tomorrow, then." Gio bit his lip, looking across the room where a piece of original artwork exploded like fireworks across one wall.

Cupping his jaw, Marcus teased his lip free, rubbing his thumb over the soft, red marks left behind. "I'll take you for dinner first, I promise." His voice rumbled in his chest, rattling them both.

"Deal," Gio said, scratching his fingernails along Marcus's scalp and dragging him in for a kiss.

They pressed together, skin on skin an electric reminder that there were only a few scraps of cotton left between them. Marcus shucked off his underwear without breaking the kiss, his knees bracketing Gio's thigh. It gave the omega the perfect angle to slot them together, arching up to rub fire into the air between them.

Sweat popped out on his forehead, and he licked up beads of salt as he traced lines of hot breath over Gio's cheek and down his neck. Following the dips and curves of muscle, he chased the shivers that twitched across Gio's skin, raising goosebumps on them both.

"Fuck." Gio yanked on his hair as Marcus skimmed his lips over the barely there curve of his gut, soft and sweet. Ignoring the pain, he wrapped his lips around the erection thrust insistently at his chin, tracing the details through the thin cotton of his underwear. The taste of the omega, tart and musky, surrounded Marcus, swamping his senses until he could only groan.

Digging his hands under the cloth, he tangled his fingers in the elastic waistband of the boxers and pulled them off. Gio was perfect.

He hadn't gotten a good look last time, so he took a moment to map the veins crawling through the flush of color that darkened at the tip to a desperate red. The glisten of slick pleasure made the whole thing shine like a cherry, and he sucked it into his mouth to have a taste.

Gio shouted, dragging him away and into a biting kiss. "Hurry. Up," he growled between the scrape of teeth on stubble. The dark, rich flavor of their kiss made the room spin.

"Right," Marcus said, shifting away just enough to yank his bedside drawer open, almost knocking the whole thing over. Saying a small prayer of thanks that he was an organized bachelor, he grabbed the lube and condoms without looking, tossing them onto the bed. "Scoot up."

Hooking his hands under that luscious ass, he helped Gio squirm across the sheets until Marcus was no longer in danger of sliding off the bed as he thrust. Unwilling to let go, he dug his fingers in, squeezing and massaging the muscle as he licked his way back up Gio's chest.

In the golden light of the lamps, Gio glowed. Their skin slid together as Marcus leaned up on his knees, reluctantly freeing his hands to pull on the condom. Lube splattered onto the covers as he squeezed a little too enthusiastically, and Gio chuckled.

Marcus leaned forward to taste the tiny smile that creased his flushed cheeks, swallowing both of their groans as he stroked one finger across Gio's hole. The heat was scorching. He pressed gently, shuddering at the bolt of pleasure that streaked up his spine from the silky clench.

"You're so tight." Even to his own ears, he sounded rough and bestial. Forcing himself to go slow, he rubbed coaxing circles as he panted against Gio's lips.

The omega was having none of it. Thrusting his hips back, Gio rode Marcus's finger until it was in as deep as it could get. Gasping, he tossed his head on the sheet. "More."

Unable to do more than stare at him in shock, Marcus jumped when Gio threw his legs around his waist and dragged them together.

"More. Now."

Their cocks pressed and slid, fire burning through the last of Marcus's control. Two fingers became three, Gio meeting every thrust and demanding more, a sensual chorus that was driving Marcus slowly insane.

"Enough," Gio growled, twisting his hips away. "Fuck me."

He opened his mouth to ask if Gio was sure, only to have the words wither and die on his tongue at the dark glare he got. Cupping one hand under Gio's ass, he stroked a sloppy coat of lube over his dick, the pressure making his eyes roll back in his head.

The heat coming off Gio's body made his heart clench, and he didn't breathe as he pressed in. He slid home in one long, glorious thrust. His mind whited out, bursts of color consuming everything but Gio.

Nothing in the world could have stopped him from moving, and he sucked in one quick breath as he drew back. Gio followed him, slamming them back together with the strength of his thighs and the heels hooked around Marcus's back.

It was too fast, too much. Marcus tried to slow them down, to savor the sting of nails scraping his back, of sweat dripping from his temples, of the blasphemous hymn falling from Gio's mouth with every thrust. The omega's muscles clenched, slamming them together over and over, and Marcus lost the fight, meeting him lunge for lunge.

He braced himself against the headboard, angling his hips until he found the spot that made Gio run out of words, his throat working around a shout of pure pleasure. Their tentative rhythm fell apart as that perfect heat clenched down on him, Gio's body locking up tight. Marcus cursed, feeling his own pleasure looming over him, and determined to see the other man's pleasure first.

"Come on, baby," he growled, risking his balance to wrap one hand around Gio's straining cock, smearing the trail of slick that trickled down the head and pooled at the base.

One thrust, two, and Gio screamed. His back arched, stretching his body tight for an eternity and displaying every perfect inch. His eyes rolled back in his head, and the strain on his face melted into lax pleasure, every line and flaw erased by the intensity of the moment.

The image seared itself into Marcus's mind, and he let his own pleasure consume him. Thrusting into the vise-tight sheath, even as the clenching muscles dragged him closer to the edge, he struggled to suck in enough breath, his vision sparkling with fireworks of light and flashes of darkness.

The hot, tight coil in his gut exploded in waves that seemed to go on forever, shaking him to his core. Just when he thought it was over, another wave would swamp him. Every inch of him felt awash, lost in endless pleasure.

When it finally faded, he had just enough energy to force his aching muscles to move to the side. Clutching Gio in his shaking arms, he buried his face in the omega's hair and just held him close.

"I think—"

"You still have to wait for tomorrow," Gio said, his voice wrecked and barely audible. "Three dates. You promised."

Marcus smiled, breathing in the smell of musk and sex and tangy strawberry. "Yeah, okay."